Jeremy Atticus
by DrowinginRedInk
Summary: AU "Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives not me but him who sent me." Mark 9:37


As she stood in the doorway of Jeremy's room, the little boy still sleeping beneath the covers, Jean swore she'd never get tired of looking at him. Even when he was tucked under the covers, fast asleep, he still looked as perfect as he had the day he was born four years in the past. She knew that beneath his delicate eyelids lay the wide, brown eyes that never stopped looking at her, always searching for the messages revealed in her expressions. She was so familiar with the wa his hair hung over his face, soft and short, framing it even in sleep—a small nose, his father's narrow lips, the soft line of his chin. Most of all, it was the whole of him, every inch of smooth skin and growing muscles, the knowledge that this child was alive and growing because of her. In her youth, Jean had never thought that she would want to be a mother—too many other dreams had crowded her mind. Yet there really was nothing else she wanted to be anymore, if only because it allowed her to play like a child once again.

Jeremy was a late sleeper, and always had been, but he liked to be able to see his father off in the mornings before he headed to work. So always, Jean came to his room five minutes before it was time for him to leave and gently shook Jeremy awake, at which point he would leap awake and hug his father on his way out the door. That day was no different, and she couldn't help but admire the way a beaming smile always graced his face. Never once had he gotten tired of the morning routine.

Once her husband had left, her day truly began. Lately, Jeremy had become particularly fond of his pajamas, and she had to construct games just to convince him to put on his clothes. After all, how could he sail the seven seas in something so loose? Surely his pajamas would get caught on another pirate's hook, and then where would he be? But there could be no doubt that he would be safe in overalls. The logic, and lack thereof, in their games was always something she found humorous, but she couldn't resist. Besides, Jeremy accepted it all as fact, and who was she to say it wasn't?

She somehow managed to talk her little pirate into sitting down and eating breakfast, and as she slipped into the kitchen to get the rest of what she'd prepared, she caught a glimpse of her calendar, then turned around to give it a proper look. How was it October 11th already? That was Jem's birthday. And Jeremy was four years old now. She would have planned something, if only she'd realized sooner. But then again, there was no reason she couldn't take the car, and make a quick trip with him. He was too old for her to ignore his birthday.

But for the moment, she ate with him, and decided that since she had promised to play pirates, that would have to come first. The morning was spent in cheerful play, out in the backyard, where no one could see just how foolish she looked, running around in a dress and an apron. Before she could blink, it was noon, and she had talked him into ending the game. She made sandwiches, and as they ate them, she told him that she was going to take him somewhere. Just as she could have predicted, Jeremy had become excited, and ran out to the car before she'd even finished eating. Knowing better than to try and slow him down, she grabbed a few things, threw them in a bag, and went out to the car, finishing her sandwich as she drove, even knowing that her husband would not be pleased if he found out she had eaten in his car.

She shouldn't have been surprised that she forgot Jem's birthday. It seemed she only got more busy, and with every year, she was more and more surprised that another twelve months had came and went. She found time to be impossible to understand—it didn't seem like it had been long since she was a little girl herself, playing in the woods by her house all day and night, and yet so many years had passed and she had a child of her own.

Jean pulled into the parking lot of Maycomb Methodist Church. It was empty, of course. There was no reason for anyone to be there in the middle of business hours on a Tuesday. Jeremy, even as young as he was, recognized that and asked, "Why are we here?"

Instead of giving a proper answer, she said "I'll show you," grabbing Jeremy's hand and guiding him left, into the graveyard, to a grave she knew so well. He may have only been four years old, but she knew she had to tell him where his name came from. And there it was, on a simple, grey stone, faded with age.

 _Jeremy Atticus Finch_

 _October 11, 1922 - October 31, 1935_

 _Son and Brother_

" _Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives not me but him who sent me." Mark 9:37_

Somehow, even all those years later, the sight still left her breathless. She stopped, sat on the grass, and gestured to Jeremy to sit beside her. For a moment, she just sat, catching her bearings, remembering how to breathe and speak. Then she turned to her son, and asked, "Jeremy, do you know your full name?"

He nodded, and recited it slowly, carefully. "Jeremy Atticus Colson."

"Did you know that you're not the first Jeremy Atticus in my family?" At that he shook his head and turned to her with wide, eager eyes. "My brother was named Jeremy Atticus Finch."

"But you don't have a brother."

"I used to. He went to heaven a long time before you were born. This is where he's buried." At this, Jeremy nodded. She'd explained the concept of death to him before, as best as one could to a four-year-old, but she couldn't help but think of how little he grasped. He couldn't understand the pale hue of her brother's corpse, the deathly stillness, the strange relaxation of his face, not like she had, upon seeing it so many years ago at his funeral. Yet she was only twice as old as Jeremy when Jem died. In five years time, she would have known the second Jeremy Atticus longer than the first.

Jeremy frowned, and she knew he'd seen the sadness on her face. "You miss him," he said simply, not a question, just a fact.

"I do," she said. "He was kind, and intelligent, and he was happy to play with me, even if I was his little sister. He was everything I hope you'll be."

At this, Jeremy smiled. "Really?"

Jean smiled back. "Why else would I name you after him? He was the best boy I knew. Just like you are now."

She smiled again, and removed from her bag a bundle of flowers from her garden in the back, and a candle she'd been saving for the occasion. Jeremy watched, wide-eyed, as she placed the flowers, and lit the candles, and he held onto her arm as she sat for a moment in silence. The way Jeremy looked at her, clung to her, told her about every little thing—Jem had been the same way with Atticus. Especially once she had a son of her own, she couldn't understand how he'd gone on, having lost someone who loved him so dearly and relied on him so much. Losing Jem had left her confused, numb. She couldn't imagine how bad it would be if she lost Jeremy.

Jeremy leaned into her. "Mama," he whispered, "I wish I could have known him."

Jean simply nodded. "I wish you could have too."

After another moment, she stood up, took Jeremy's hand, and led him back to the car. She had told him all he needed to know. As Jeremy got older, there would be the story she wished he would never have to hear, of a trial, an alcoholic, and a violent attack, but that would come with time. Then, he would learn just how young Jem had died, just what a tragedy it'd been. But for the moment, just knowing he'd existed was enough. Jeremy knew that Jem had been a kind brother, and an intelligent boy, and above all, that Jean had loved him. That mattered far more than how early and violently their time together had ended. That mattered more than anything at all.

* * *

 _ **I'm about halfway through the actual Halloween AU, but once I had the idea of Jean naming her son after Jem, and then being able to frame the story as if it was Jean and Jeremy Finch until the reveal, I couldn't resist and knew I'd have to write this first, or else you'd be able to see right through it. So just know, I fully intend to write and upload this version of Halloween 1935. Also, so much of the inspiration for how I wrote this comes from Becca's story "In Some Other Time," so thank you for that Becca!**_


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